The Achelous
by tatterdemalion
Summary: People won't help us, Big Mama shouted angrily. People made us like this! Big Mama's life before, during, and after the Carter Family.
1. I

**Author's Note: **Yeah, so I've been writing this story for about three months and was kind of iffy about posting it on the site. It's sort of written in the same style as 'Always Watching' except it's mostly just character development for the character of Big Mama – her motivations for her actions, and what she was doing before, during, and after Doug went all kick-ass :D

Constructive criticism would be extremely helpful and appreciated, seeing as how three months ago I wrote the beginning, wrote the end and then spent the said three months filling in the holes, agonizing over chapter structure, and losing interest in it altogether, which is what I do for practically every story I write. So! With that said, I hope you enjoy my story!

Oh: Also, I've taken some liberties in this story. The way I imagine the relationships of the Hill People is that Big Mama and Papa Jupiter are the matriarch and patriarch of the clan and are the parents of Ruby and the two children in the village (I've gone with the rumours that the girl is named Venus and the boy is named Mercury).

**Dedication: **To TonicPeppermint, because she suggested the title, and because she's been bugging me to post this story. And I finally did. Sorry if it's lowered your expectations of my writing any!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Hills Have Eyes (2006 remake) or its characters. They belong to Wes Craven/Alexandre Aja.

* * *

_This is where the ghosts hide,_

_Now it's gone,_

_This is where the truth lies,_

_Move along,_

_This is where the dirt flies,_

_Is it wrong?_

_Up against the mud skies,_

_Now it's gone…_

* * *

Big Mama started losing her hair when she was around twenty years old. 

It used to be yellow, like the sun reflecting off sand or the wheat fields on television she would never see. At first the hair loss was unnoticeable – a few strands lifted away by the hair brush, or stuck on the inside rim of her sun hat – but it was only when she discovered clumps of hair on her pillow in the mornings did she really begin to accept her hair was falling out. Soon she took to cutting the rest of her hair off, loathing the lady in the mirror with the patches of white scalp peeking out like some well-used Barbie doll. What she was left with was a smooth white dome.

Jupiter had made her feel better by declaring he had never seen a prettier head in his life (Big Mama always said that Papa Jupiter could charm the venom out of a scorpion). If he were in a particularly good mood, he would call her "Angel Skull" for the fact that her head stayed impressively white, even in the blistering heat of the desert sun.

When Big Mama and Papa Jupiter lay in bed together, teetering on the edge of sleep, she would feel his large, calloused hand rubbing gently over the contours of her skull, following the depression behind her ear down and around to her spine before tip-toeing back up to her crown. Big Mama would fall asleep to the sensation of those fingers on nights when sleep was hard to come by.

* * *

Big Mama had a real name. It was Caroline. It was such an old-fashioned name – it made her think of butter-churners and squeaky-clean girls with plaits and apple cheeks in patterned pinafores. It made her think of how the town was before the testing and the bombs and the ugly memories of tunnels collapsing and loved ones screaming. 

Big Mama had a middle name too, she supposed. Far as she could remember, it started with an 'A'…

She had watched a program on TV about the human mind once. The scientist hosting the show had talked about how the mind could block out certain memories following a traumatic event.

(_Boom_)

(_Boom_)

(_Boom_)

Big Mama could remember most of that, though (_the day when her world fell apart_). It was the little details – her surname, her parent's faces, where she hid her doll when the soldiers came – that escaped her.

* * *

It was Papa Jupiter who got her first wig for her. He spoiled her too much, she always told him and like always he would merely grin and kiss the top of her smooth, white head. 

He and Lizard had already managed to get a small black-and-white television up and running, when Big Mama was several months pregnant with Ruby and could not go far on swollen feet (Big Mama wasn't sure how they managed to set it all up – all she knew was that it involved a lot of ruckus and cussing, mostly on Lizard's part). There were only three channels (three and a half, on clear days), but Big Mama was ecstatic. When she watched the TV, with its game shows and pretty blonde assistants, Big Mama wished for hair.

One day Jupiter came back from the mines with a package wrapped in newspaper, delivered by Fred. Nestled inside the package was a wig, a short bob of dirty blonde hair. It was made of synthetic fibres of course, from the cheapest shop possible but Big Mama didn't care. Jupiter promised her one day that he would get her a wig made of real human hair, (she kissed him and thanked him and told him it wouldn't be necessary).

Big Mama didn't wear it often (it irritated her scalp liked nobody's business), but she brushed it, styled it, and when nobody was around she slipped it on, stood in front of the mirror, and tried to remember her name.

* * *

When Ruby was born, she went three days without a name. 

Jupiter suggested naming her after Big Mama's mother, but Big Mama was too ashamed to let him know she didn't remember, so she disagreed sharply with him until he stopped persisting. Meanwhile, the newborn Ruby (screaming and fussing from the heat, dust, and general discomfort) was placed in the nursery in a swaddle of assorted rags. At first she was carefully watched every second of the day by Big Mama, but when she got an infection after the pregnancy, Ruby was watched by either an unwilling Lizard (who made it clear after scaring Ruby into hysterics with his perpetual leer that babysitting was not his forte) or the usually silent Goggle.

Lizard quickly realized that babies, like magpies, liked shiny things and took to dangling a key chain set with a red birthstone (stolen from a 'wayward traveller') above Ruby's crib. This was usually enough to transfix the baby and bring her piercing shrieks to soft gurgles. They named her Ruby after the stone in the key chain. It was two months after that when Big Mama remembered her middle name, which also happened to be her mother's name.

She would have made a good Anne, Big Mama thought to herself as she watched little Ruby stir, her disfigured face angelic in sleep.

* * *

Big Mama had two stillborns in between Ruby and the twins Venus and Mercury. The first one she had been planning to name Anne until she saw Jupiter's tired look and the baby's still chest. 

Big Brain had informed her early on of the dangers of having babies after the radiation – of the mutations and the diseases and the underdeveloped body parts. Her first still born, Anne, had little, barely-developed lungs that did her no good. Her second still born had water on the brain (hydrocephalus, Big Brain told her with a look of understanding), and its head had grown so massive that it collapsed in on itself while she was giving birth to it.

She didn't even bother thinking of a name this time when, cradling the child's corpse, she felt its skull give way under her fingers.

Losing two children was like a coating of dust in her mouth – a dry, empty feeling she could never quite shake, even when she tried to wash it away. Big Mama spent sleepless nights remembering Anne's little head (already dusted with a fine dark hair) as Papa Jupiter overturned a shovel full of dirt into her grave.

* * *

As Ruby got older, she rarely stayed put. She was always up in the hills, or visiting Fred at the gas station. It was only quite a while after that when Big Mama finally realized that Ruby was ashamed. Ashamed of her family and the life they were forced to live. Ashamed of the dead bodies in their storehouse and the abandoned cars in the crater. 

Once Big Mama confronted Ruby about it, and it was the first time she had raised her voice to her daughter.

"_I don't like killing!" Ruby cried, her lisp becoming prominent as she became more upset._

"_We have no choice!" Big Mama replied, feeling the anger collecting in the back of her skull like a storm cloud. "You know we can't live any other way!"_

"_There must be other way!" Ruby declared stubbornly, folding her arms and glaring at her with those big doe eyes. _

"_There is no other way," Big Mama countered. "You think Lizard can live with other people? You think Pluto can? You think you can? People will fear us!"_

_Ruby averted her eyes, tears gathering on the tips of her eyelashes. "People not fear us," she insisted. "Will help us."_

"People will not help us," Big Mama hissed. "People hate us! People did this to us!" She grabbed her daughter's face and tilted it towards the mirror hanging on the wall. The fading afternoon light had caught the odd angles of Ruby's face and had created a fearsome image in the mirror.

Ruby had broken into tears at that moment and even now Big Mama felt the sharp sting of guilt that had pricked in her stomach as she watched her baby girl flee the house and disappear into the hills.

Big Mama was not a hateful individual. She was not like Big Brain, who preached about the horrors of American politics and nation in general to her children continually (though she had told him several times to stop). She was not like Lizard, who had become so violent and filled with rage that sometimes she feared him. But there was always that feeling, that small feeling that something had been stolen from her every time she woke up in her empty Test House with her bald head and her deformed children, living each day in insecurity and forced to murder to stay alive.

Jupiter had brought Ruby back several hours later that night, exhausted and sweat-soaked. He had talked quietly to them for a while, until both mother and daughter muttered the appropriate apologies and embraced.

Their relationship was never the same after that. Big Mama often wondered if she had handled the confrontation differently, if Ruby would still be alive today.

* * *

Venus and Mercury were born six years before that man in the glasses came with his baby. Big Mama had been dreading their arrival, not sure if she could face the pain of another stillborn, but when the first twin (Venus, born a couple of minutes before her brother) came out, she was a squealing mass of life, her eyes screwed shut and her face red. Ruby had come to coo over her new siblings and had drawn the newborn close, whispering hurried words under her breath. Venus had turned the deformed side of her face to touch her sister's and the two girls stayed like that until Mercury was born, his grey skin slick with bodily fluids. 

When he was young, Mercury was very, very sick but as he got older he ran around in the desert like a jackrabbit – until his feet turned raw and his skin blistered and Big Mama kept him inside. Venus, from an early age, was overly conscious of the tumour on her cheek that dragged one side of her mouth down to her chin so she drooled heavily if she was excited or exercising. She preferred to stay indoors with her beloved Lincoln Logs, (salvaged from the trunk of one of their victims) and the _click_, _click_ of the logs snapping together resounded through Big Mama's house at all hours of the day.

At first Venus didn't like her brother – Big Mama would enter the room to see Venus sprawled out on the carpet with her Logs and Mercury in the corner, forlornly playing with his little plastic soldier. When Big Mama forced them to play together, Venus would sulk and turn her face away from Mercury.

Eventually, they became a little older and Venus learned that her family was all she had in her life. Grudgingly, she warmed to her brother and allowed him to touch her Lincoln Logs.

This was how Big Mama's earlier years were spent – with her children, in her house, with her television. The desert was big but her world felt very small. She existed only for her family, and that was how she thought she would always stay.

* * *


	2. II

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hills Have Eyes (2006 remake).

* * *

When Pluto and Lizard showed up on her doorstep one night, Pluto cradling a baby in his arms and grinning toothlessly at it, Big Mama's heart nearly stopped. The baby was the spitting image of her Anne, with her shock of fine dark hair and her dark expressive eyes set in a rounded baby face.

"What's her name?" Big Mama asked as she took the baby from Pluto. The baby blinked sleepy eyes up at her.

Lizard shrugged angrily, and for the first time Big Mama noticed the rivulets of dried blood that had seeped into his pants from a circular wound in his thigh.

"What happened to your leg?" Big Mama motioned with her elbow, hands preoccupied with the baby, who had started to fuss.

"Bitch mother." Lizard offered in way of an explanation, jabbing in the baby's direction with a blood-soaked finger.

"I'll call her Anne," Big Mama decided, cooing under her breath and wiggling her finger experimentally in front of the baby's face. She gurgled in uncertainty, but still made a snatch at her hand with chubby fists.

"Jupiter says to keep her here." Lizard went on, ignoring Big Mama's baby talk. "He says keep children in house. Where Ruby?"

"Ruby's in back, putting Mercury and Venus to bed."

Lizard nodded in approval, before leading Pluto away towards Big Brain's house.

Big Mama went into the adjoining bedroom (hers and Jupiter's), knelt at the foot of the bed and cooed at Catherine, tickling her toes until the baby gave a hiccup of reluctant laughter. Mercury peeked his head around the doorframe, his grey skin darkened in the darkness of the house. He smiled shyly at her, and Big Mama felt herself recoil, a feeling that was quickly replaced with guilt. There was something about staring at this perfect, non-deformed baby that that reminded her how strange they – all of them, including herself – were. She took in her son's grey skin, rippled by old scars and sunburns from long ago and stood up.

"Hi baby," she greeted. Mercury, who had started to become scared by his mother's silence, rushed to her arms in relief. "Mama," he whimpered. "Venus won't share the blankets!"

Big Mama sighed – her daughter never shared anything unless she was told to. She let Mercury lead her impatiently out of the room, away from the perfect baby gurgling on her covers. Big Mama spared Catherine a glance: the baby was squirming uncomfortably, and her motherly instincts took in everything – the bed was too high off the floor, the edges of her armoire were sharp, her perfume (mostly used for show) was in easily-breakable bottles…Big Mama turned away.

That was not her child, and right now her own children needed her.

* * *

After she put Venus and Mercury back to bed (with the sharp order to share the covers), Big Mama busied herself around the house, flitting nervously from one menial task to the next.

The sparse kitchen curtains didn't _need_ to be straightened, and rearranging Venus' Lincoln Logs in straight, orderly rows was unnecessary but all Big Mama was doing was avoiding her bedroom, avoiding going into that room and seeing Anne, alive and fussing on her blankets. Big Mama eventually fell asleep in her chair in front of the television, her wig on the table beside her.

She did not stir when Ruby tiptoed down the hall, pressed a soft kiss to her mother's cheek and slipped out the door towards the mine.

* * *

When Big Mama woke in the cool, quiet dawn, thoughts of the baby in the next room did not even cross her mind. Ruby's bed was empty, neatly made and cool to the touch – she had been gone for a while. Between waking Venus and Mercury and feeding them, she contacted both Jupiter and Lizard. Lizard, who sounded like he had slept approximately two hours and eaten nothing, informed her sharply that no, he hadn't seen Ruby since late last night and "could you git off the damn channel Mama" because Goggle wasn't responding to their calls.

Jupiter, she was told, was going back to monitor what was left of the family and Lizard was returning to the village.

Twenty minutes later, in a conversation with a harried Jupiter, Big Mama risked asking, "Where's the baby's mama?"

There was a surprised pause. "Dead." Jupiter replied simply.

"Where's the father?" she asked again.

"Don't know. Still alive, I think."

She listened to his instructions on staying in the house with only one ear, risking a glance at her bedroom. The baby was crying now, kicking around on the bed and rolling over.

"I want to keep the baby." She blurted out in the middle of his sentence.

Jupiter paused again. "We'll talk later Mama," he muttered. Big Mama felt her face heat up. It was selfish of her to think of things like that when her daughter was missing and her husband's carefully laid plans were ending up in ruins.

"Sorry." she whispered into the walkie-talkie and was rewarded with one of Jupiter's booming chuckles.

"Bye-bye, Angel Skull." he told her before switching off his walkie-talkie. Looking back, Big Mama found it fitting that those were the last words he ever said to her.

* * *

At 6:30am Big Mama smoothed sunscreen from the half-empty bottle over baby Catherine's little limbs. At 6:45am, she told Venus to check on the baby every ten minutes and share her Lincoln Logs, told Mercury to stay out of the sun, and made the walk over to Big Brain's house.

At 7:00am she helped Big Brain bring his spoonful of breakfast to his mouth. Big Brain hated the fact that his brother's wife had to come help him eat and was always sullen and short with Big Mama – which was fine, as Big Mama didn't like talking to him either.

Today when she walked into her brother-in-law's house, there was a body propped up at the dining room table amidst the vacantly grinning mannequins. The house smelt like burnt flesh and just walking past the threshold made her gag. Adding to the grotesqueness of the situation was the American flag crudely shoved into the skull.

The only person Big Mama could think capable of such an act was Lizard, and with that thought she shuddered and turned from the morbid display.

Big Brain giggled from his place in the wheelchair. "They'll get what they deserve," he wheezed cryptically as Big Mama made her way over to him. "They always get what they deserve."

In no mood for one of his hateful, breathless speeches, Big Mama raised her eyebrows. "Just like we got what we deserved?"

Big Brain's eyes flashed and she fell silent.

They didn't speak for the rest of the hour, as Big Mama spooned instant oatmeal into her brother-in-law's mouth.

As Big Mama got up to leave, Big Brain made a weak grab for her arm. For a minute he looked so young and helpless that she actually pitied him, sitting alone in this dusty house with nothing but his walkie-talkie and the silhouettes of mannequins to keep him company.

Big Brain withdrew his hand just as quickly, but the meaning was clear – it was a grudging thanks, and Big Mama, looking back again, wondered why everyone on that day had the synonymous feeling that something bad was going to happen, and were acting on it. It was the first time Big Brain had ever done anything like that and all Big Mama could do was clasp his hand wordlessly and then leave.

Walking back to the house, she passed Cyst on the way to the storehouse. They exchanged glances briefly before going their separate ways (two days later Big Mama would pick over her memories of that day and agonize over the final words said to her family members – to Big Brain it was a reassuring hand squeeze, and to Cyst it was nothing but a smile).

* * *

Big Mama returned to her house, checked on the baby, and settled heavily into her rocking chair – her bones felt dusty, coated by that thick orangey powder that covered practically everything. It blew in through open windows, it irritated the sunburnt skin on Lizard's arms, and it caught in Ruby's tangled locks.

Big Mama felt old – old and dusty. Sometimes her joints groaned when she walked or sat down, sometimes she had to rest just from trekking to and from Big Brain's house. She wondered how she would survive now, now that she was no longer young and spry. Most of her family were lean and tough, had been battered by wind and sun for so long that they now resembled cured leather. Big Mama was soft and white and pasty. She would not survive long in the desert like this.

Big Mama glanced at her wig and decided, suddenly and with clarity that she would never wear the awful thing again. She would burn it the moment this was all done.

It was too bad, really; Jupiter had gone to all that trouble, and she never wore it anyways.

She gingerly picked up the mannequin head it was perched on, and began playing with a few stray strands. Examining it carefully, she then picked up her brush and started combing the synthetic strands back into their place. No sense sending it off not looking it's best, right?

(_Big Mama looked back and found it strange that she was treating this wig like a person when at that very moment a bespectacled man was peering into her window at his baby girl_)

It took her a few minutes to realize there was somebody behind her in the hallway. She very nearly turned around, but managed to keep still. The man with the spectacles, just noticing her as well, scooted back behind the doorframe out of her line of vision, taking care to act inconspicuous.

Did he think she was stupid? He was breathing so loudly she was surprised Cyst two doors over hadn't heard. Out of the corner of her eye she studied him as he came back into view – though he was holding the bat with tightly clenched fists, the eyes behind his glasses were large with fright, and his face was pale. Big Mama waited until he sidled out of her vision before getting out of her chair, intent on stopping him when she heard Anne gurgle and the man abruptly shush her. Big Mama felt faint. Although the man was clearly scared out of his mind, he wouldn't hesitate to strike her if she tried to stop him from taking the baby.

Mind racing, Big Mama dropped back down into her rocking chair as she heard the man's hesitant footfalls.

He had Anne cradled in his arms.

At that moment, something Big Mama could not describe welled up in her stomach, pushing at her esophagus, and swallowing her previous fear.

She pushed herself up from her chair and went around to the other hallway. On one of the hall tables was a white ceramic vase with a large fake red daisy in it. It looked horribly out of place against Big Mama's white-washed walls. She had always hated it.

The next few moments were a blur. The man rounded the corner, his gait quicker now that he was past the doorframe. The baby was still in his arms, making no sound. Big Mama had never moved so quickly as she did when she brought the vase up over her head and smashed it across the man's skull. He crumpled heavily and the baby began to scream.

Big Mama scooped her up and rocked her back in forth.

"It's all right, baby," she croaked, her voice cracking with fear.

"Mama's here, and everything's gonna be all right."

* * *

"Stay in house." That's what Lizard had growled to her as she watched him drag the man's unconscious body across the threshold of her house and down towards Big Brain's place. He had taken the baby away too, to God knows where. Big Mama felt worry mixed with relief, the image of little Anne pushed to the back of her mind. She had her own children to worry about. Briefly, she caught Lizard's eye and they exchanged glances – Lizard's, as always, was guarded but underneath was unsettling panic. Never had their "prey" come this close to their domain.

Venus chattered to her jovially about the man who had come to play with them as Big Mama went around the house, throwing open the trapdoor in the living room for an emergency exit, and latching the window screens shut. The man had been taken care of, but there could be more. Lizard said that two others had survived their ill-timed attack.

Jupiter had not radioed in for a while and Goggle still wasn't responding.

Mercury squinted at her in the gloom of the house. "Mama, why close windows?" he asked. Big Mama scooped him up and held him against her chest. _Thump-thump_ went his little heart in his little ribcage.

Anne's heart had been smaller.

"There's some bad people out there, baby." She told him, smoothing down his dark hair. "It's not safe."

Mercury nestled into her bosom. "When will it be safe?"

Big Mama stared at her bedroom (_It looked so lonely without a baby or a husband_)

"Don't know," she heard herself say. "Soon, I hope."

* * *

_I heard somebody say,_

_The war ended today,_

_But everybody knows it's goin' still._

* * *


	3. III

**Author's Note: **

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Hills Have Eyes (2006 remake) or the lyrics to the song 'Devil's Rejects' by Rob Zombie.

* * *

It was nearly mid-afternoon, and neither Lizard nor Jupiter had come to tell her it was all clear. Big Mama felt her muscles twitching, a nervous sweat breaking out over her body. She had never known the Testing Village to be this quiet, devoid of what little activity usually occurred.

About two hours ago, there had been a muffled explosion from over the hills. Venus and Mercury had taken no notice of it, but it had unnerved Big Mama so much that she almost contemplated radioing Jupiter. But she had heard that man on the radio – they may be listening to their conversation. After the explosion came several gunshots; a few ones in succession and then one final shot.

The rest of the hours had been sat in silence.

Big Mama's first sign that something was definitely wrong came when she looked out the front window – and saw Cyst lying motionless in front of Big Brain's house, deathly still with an axe through his head. Big Mama bellowed, a wordless yell of disbelief and anger that sent the twins running towards her, eyes wide and scared. She calmed them down with shaking hands, sent them back to their room with the stern order to stay put and ventured out to Big Brain's house.

It was hard to see big, childish Pluto on the floor, an axe in his head and the American flag through his throat. Big Mama was sure that if Big Brain weren't dead in the next room, blood blooming from the wound in his throat, he would have found the whole thing morbidly funny. She could hardly believe that this was the work of that meek, spectacled man that had come into her house to take his baby back.

There was a whine in the air, like the perpetual buzz of the flies that everyone learned to live with. At first Big Mama thought that's what it was – until the buzzing formed words and became a high, wavering cry of, "Mama! Mama!" from the nearby cliffs.

Big Mama was a big woman, but she could still move fast when needed. She kicked off her clumsy brown clogs as she went, ignoring the stabs of pain in her feet from the rocks on the ground.

* * *

When she reached the bottom of the cliff, she could tell that Lizard had been dead for a while – most of his blood had pooled out underneath him from various wounds in his body and his limbs were stiff. Ruby was on top of her cousin, arms wrapped around his waist. She was moving in small jerks, painful dying spasms that wracked her frail frame. Big Mama's heart was in her throat as she watched her daughter tilt her head to stare at her with big, pleading eyes.

Big Mama didn't hesitate once as she stooped to pick up the shotgun near Lizard's clenched fist. Tears were rolling down her face as she aimed, loaded the gun and blew her daughter's brains out – a mercy killing.

The sound of the shot echoed in the stillness of the desert; nobody came running. Nothing stirred.

For the first time in more than ten years, Big Mama broke down and cried, heaving ugly sobs and choking on a combination of saliva and mucus. She threw the gun to the side, snivelling pathetically, wiped her face, composed herself, and turned back towards her house. She did not look down at the sight of her eldest daughter's face turned towards her, eyes glassy and staring at absolutely nothing.

* * *

"Where Ruby?" asked Venus softly, blinking bright blue eyes up at her mother. Big Mama had nothing to say and reached down to pat her daughter softly on the head. Mercury clutched at her apron, his brow furrowed. Big Mama took a deep breath.

"Ruby's not here."

"Where Papa?" Venus insisted, and Big Mama had to stop and press a palm tightly against her eyes. She had tried Big Brain's walkie-talkie, but neither Goggle nor Papa Jupiter were answering.

"Don't know, baby. Not here."

Big Mama left her only two living children standing in the kitchen. She went into her bedroom. She rearranged her perfume bottles. She sat down in front of the television and picked at a hole in the armchair. She could hear Mercury and Venus in the next room, the clacking of Lincoln Logs sharp in the otherwise silent house. Big Mama had never felt so entirely alone in her life. Her world had suddenly expanded over the course of a few minutes, and the desert had never seemed to large. She flicked the walkie-talkie on and waited.

* * *

Hours later, the walkie-talkie crackled insistently and Big Mama leapt for it, knocking her wig off the table, and held it close to her face. "Hello? Jupiter? Goggle?"

She willed it to be Jupiter, willed him to tell her everything was okay and then walk out of those mines like he always did, his arms open and the words, "Hello Angel Skull" on his lips.

Instead there was a harsh intake of breath from the other side and then a voice like gravel hissed, "Mama? I saw what happen."

Big Mama let out her breath painfully. It was Jupiter's brother, Hades, who lived further up in the hills and the mines with his clan, an assortment of ragtag mutants like Letch and Chameleon.

"Hello, Hades. Is Jupiter okay?"

Hades was silent for a minute, before rasping, "Jupe dead, Mama. You okay?"

"Venus and Mercury and me are here," Big Mama choked. Hades didn't ask about Ruby because he didn't need to.

"You stay put, Mama. We come get you."

Big Mama placed the walkie-talkie down and looked out the window at the setting sun. She could still see Cyst's body lying there from her spot in her chair, but she knew she would never have the heart to collect her family's bodies. Big Mama was never coming back to this place again.

As she gathered what little stuff they had, Venus watched her carefully, hands placed possessively over the knapsack that held her Lincoln Logs. "Where we going Mama? Are we going to see Uncle Hades?"

Big Mama managed a tight smile. For a minute she saw Ruby's off-kilter face reflected in her younger daughter's. "Yes. We'll go see Uncle Hades."

"Uncle Hades here!" Mercury yelled, charging towards the front door as a heavy knock echoed around the house. The grey-skinned boy was swept into a brief, gruff hug by the older mutant. Behind him were Hansel and Stabber, the former gazing at her with sorrowful eyes.

"Ready to go?" asked Hades as he took Big Mama's things from her. Big Mama looked around her – in the distance she could see Ruby's and Lizard's still bodies, forever locked in a death embrace. Big Mama would never know what occurred in the final moments of their lives (_she didn't want to know_).

Hades followed her gaze and his hard face softened. He nudged her gently with his elbow. Big Mama turned back to him. "Ready," she affirmed.

* * *

_Hold your breath,_

_Your world is running down,_

_Live for the family,_

_Die with the family,_

_All is the family…_

* * *


	4. Epilogue

**A/N: **An epilogue, for those who think they need it. If you've seen THHE 2, you know which part of the movie I'm referencing.

* * *

Big Mama went to live in the mines. It was like living in the belly of an enormous beast. Mercury caught infection and died. Venus did not speak again save for several animalistic grunts to signify hunger, thirst, and bowel movements. Big Mama spent most of her time with Grabber, exploring the mines that would become her grave.

Almost a year passed. A few soldiers entered the mines. Trailing behind Grabber, Big Mama came across two of them, a man and a woman. The man had dirt all over his face. His mousy brown hair was slicked against his skull and his eyes were large and wide. Big Mama remembered the doe-eyed man and his baby, the man who avenged his family by killing hers. And she remembered gazing down at him that day, the shattered vase on the floor, thinking how easy it would be to kill him.

But she didn't.

If humans do nothing else, they learn from their mistakes. Big Mama picked up a gun that was leaning against the mine wall, gave it to Grabber, and whispered instructions.


End file.
